


Seasonal Change

by Captain_Erika



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Blood and Violence, Death, Gen, Immortal!Tango, Panic Attacks, Sort Of, Swearing, Voidwalker!Xisuma, Whump, interpretations of game mechanics, mentions of vomiting, suffocation, worldhopping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:09:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26978623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Erika/pseuds/Captain_Erika
Summary: It gets boring, staying in the same world forever. But it's not an easy task to find a new one.Tango knows that more than anyone.
Comments: 30
Kudos: 101





	1. First time lucky?

“I can do this alone. You don’t have to come with me, you know.”

Tango nodded.

He knew. And he’d always go anyway.

Xisuma stood in front of him, hands waving in the air and tapping at buttons that only he could see.

Tango waited, listening to the gentle hum of bees and Xisuma’s exasperated cursing. He leaned against the cool concrete, patiently taking in the sights of Xisuma’s base. Their admin had outdone himself this season. He’d transformed the entire jungle, bright towers rising out of the foliage in every direction. There must have been a dozen of them, if not more.

He didn’t have to ask what had gotten Xisuma so flustered. He knew that the preparations necessary to search for a new world were stressful. Trawling through tens of thousands of potential links, and then narrowing it down to worlds they could form a stable connection with. He knew Xisuma had been sifting through worlds with his admin access for weeks. His helmet visor was hardly ever set to be transparent, and Tango suspected that it was to hide the bags under his friend’s eyes that were so large they could have been suitcases.

At least they had a list of world seeds now. Not that the next step in the process was any easier.

Well, it would be for Xisuma. Not for him.

Tango watched the sunlight bounce off Xisuma’s armour as he turned, his concentration still on his admin panel. No doubt setting up the last protections around Hermitcraft. The last bid at keeping the world stable and their friends safe while their admin was away. If they were unsuccessful in finding a new world this time, they needed the current world to remain safe. Tango knew that meant that everything was put on lockdown. Mob spawning paused, fire deleted and the sky stuck in eternal sunshine. All things that could go wrong all too quickly if Xisuma wasn’t focused when he tapped away at the world’s code. Hell, If Xisuma thought he could get away with it, he would probably trap all the hermits in a bedrock box to ensure they didn’t find a new way to break the world before he returned.

It was a good thing, then, that the other hermits didn’t know how Xisuma found a new world for them at the end of each season.

Didn’t know how long it took, didn’t know what they had to go through.

“I’m ready, then. Let’s go.” Xisuma flicked his control panel closed.

But it was time for his part again.

Tango felt the crackle in the air as admin magic surrounded him, coiling around him like a rope and twisting tighter and tighter and tighter until—

The far too familiar _pop!_ , and the world broke down around him, fuzzy squares streaming past his face until everything whited out.

~

He knew there was sunlight before he opened his eyes.

Well, that was the first box ticked off a very long list. He took a deep breath. The air was cool and, more importantly, similar enough to standard overworld air for his lungs to accept it. Another tick. He looked around.

He stood in a clearing surrounded by birch trees. Familiar yellow flowers dotted the grass at his feet, and the faint noises of a cow drifted to him from somewhere in the forest.

“Well, would you look at that. Right off the bat, this one seems promising.” Xisuma crouched next to him in the grass, already examining one of the flowers. “No immediate signs of world decay from us arriving, either.” He squinted at the stem and peaked under the petals. Tango knew he was searching for the tell-tale disintegrating of an unstable world. Even if it wasn’t here right now, it would come eventually.

It came for every world eventually.

Tango playfully shoved him with his shoulder.

“Looking for all that is my job, go on, off you go.” He grinned. He did a good job of keeping his sadness from touching his words.

Xisuma looked hesitant. He always looked hesitant when it came to this, every time.

Tango dropped the smile.

“I’ll be fine,” He said in a more serious tone, “And you’re only going to tomorrow, remember?”

“Right, of course.” Xisuma tapped at his communicator. Tango had never asked how he managed to bring it between worlds. Maybe it was something about him being an admin. He should probably ask about that for next time they had to do this. Having access to a few commands himself might make this whole process easier.

He thought back to all the times the entire world had glitched out because of poorly thought through commands.

Maybe it was best he didn’t have any admin powers after all.

“Stay safe until tomorrow, Tango.” Xisuma gave him one last smile before he pushed a button. He blinked out of existence, leaving a few swirling particles and a putrid smell in the now-burning heat of the air. Tango stumbled back a few steps, almost retching at the strength of the stench. He glowered at the singed circle of grass where Xisuma had stood.

He hated the after-effects of time travel commands.

He briefly wondered if Xisuma was bothered by it.

But he didn’t have the time to ponder. The sun had moved a fraction, just enough for him to be reasonably sure that the length of a day would be similar to what he was used to. Sighing, he took a half-hearted swing at the nearest tree.

Time to see how long this world would last.

Hopefully long enough for him to see Xisuma again.

~

Mobs.

There were mobs _everywhere_.

Tango’s muscles screamed at him as he raced through the forest, the stone pickaxe on his belt bashing against his hip with every step as he darted between the trees. There would be a bruise there tomorrow.

Not for the first time, he thanked his lucky stars for his nether heritage—better night vision was worth the trade-off of being more vulnerable to the cold.

 _Definitely worth it right now_ , he thought as he ducked under a low branch that was almost invisible in the darkness.

Sounds echoed from all around him, hissing and groaning and the grinding of skeletons’ bones. There were far too many for him to even think about making a stand until morning. As soon as dusk hit, a dozen zombies had spawned around him and the night had only gotten worse.

A sharp sting across the back of his neck and the thud of an arrow burying itself in a trunk behind him told him he’d just been lucky.

He brushed his hand against the graze as he ran. His fingers came back wet and warm. Not good, but he was still moving, so not something he needed to worry about right this instant.

It still distracted him though, and he almost collided with a tree. He ducked to the side at the last second and glanced back at it as he sprinted past, not looking where he was going for a fraction of a second—

He slammed into something, sending both it and him tumbling to the ground. He squeezed his eyes shut instinctively as he landed hard on whatever he’d run into.

Tango groaned as his bones jarred at the impact. He lay still for a second, checking that none of his limbs were in serious pain.

But he was… Moving slightly.

Up and down, ever so gently.

Like the thing he’d fallen on was… Breathing.

Panic pried his eyes open. He found himself staring at two large purple pupils glaring right back at him.

The enderman’s black head was hard to pick out amongst the dark grey background of the forest, but he didn’t need to see the rest of the creature’s face to know it wasn’t happy with him.

“So…” It came out as a nervous whispered laugh as he lay on the enderman’s chest. “I don’t suppose you’ll take a sincere apology?”

The eyes narrowed.

“...Is that a no?”

Pain smacking his head was his answer. He gasped as the force of the blow knocked him onto the ground. The tree trunks didn’t seems so straight anymore, and when he reached out to put his hands on the ground to push himself up, he completely missed. Where was the ground? He was certainly lying on it, with twigs pressing into his arms and the smell of dirt all around him. He tried again, and the grass tickled his fingertips. It was there alright, but not where his eyes were telling him.

That probably wasn’t good, but he had bigger problems right now.

He pushed himself up to a sitting position and the trees started to spin. Was he actually sitting up? Or was he leaning?

Another face full of dead leaves answered that.

As the sound of mobs grew steadily louder, Tango rolled onto his back and tried to sit up again, with much the same result.

He _knew_ he’d only seen one enderman, but angry gurgling seemed to be coming from every direction as he tried to look around. Purple dots stretched into wavy lines wobbling across his vision that became larger and larger as the shrieking drew closer and closer.

But all the noises felt out of focus, soft and blurry around the edges, if you could have a blurry sound. Tango pondered the idea. It seemed more important to think about than whatever that noisy shape was, anyway. And why was he on the ground? Was it something to do with the noise? What noise even was there? There wasn’t any noise. Wait, there _was_ a soft ringing sound. Like some weird bell. It felt like it was filling his head with cotton, muffling anything else that tried to claw at his ears.

And clawing seemed to be a very apt description.

Something slashed at his neck and the muted greys of the nighttime forest faded into darkness before he could scream.


	2. Not So Lucky

Tango sat up and hurled. He curled over, his eyes watering as the meagre meal he’d scrounged together yesterday came back up. He pressed one hand to his stomach in an attempt to stop his nausea. It didn’t work, and he spent the next few minutes hunched over.

When only bile remained, his stomach quietened. He flopped back onto the grass, tiredness flooding over him as he raised a hand to shield his eyes from the strong beams of sunlight.

Sunlight?

He sat up again.

Yeah, there was sunlight. It was daytime.

The ground felt tacky under his hands.

Oh. Of course.

Smears of blood surrounded him. Memories slowly started to trickle back into his mind and he gingerly touched his throat. It felt the same as the ground.

 _Enderman got a lucky hit, then,_ he thought, _At least there are some perks to being immortal_.

Not having to deal with the complications of respawning when Xisuma wasn’t around to help was a blessing. Who knows how many scars and permanent injuries he’d have if he had to respawn each time he died. Certainly enough for the other hermits to ask questions that they wouldn’t like the answers to.

No, it was much better that he simply woke up again.

It was a lot more tiring, though.

Tango let himself slide to the ground again, not caring that he was sinking back into his own blood. His clothes were mostly red anyway, and he couldn’t muster the energy to care.

Xisuma would be able to find him with his teleportation commands, anyway. And it was day. No more mobs around. 

He could afford to take a nap.

~

"Oh _shit_ , _Tango_ , Tango, are you with me?"

Tango groaned at the disruption.

"Tango?"

The disruption was persistent.

"Tango!"

"Geez, can't a guy take a nap?" He blearily opened his eyes.

The sunlight was blocked by a bright yellow helmet and a pair of _very_ worried eyes hovering over him.

"Hi X. How ya doing?"

"What in the nether happened, Tango?" Xisuma ignored his greeting completely.

Tango took Xisuma's offered hand and let his friend pull him to his feet.

"Ran into an unfriendly enderman," He shot Xisuma a tired grin, "First time not so lucky after all." His voice became more serious, "This world's got _lots_ of mobs, X."

"I see." Xisuma examined his gloved hand and the dried blood that had rubbed off onto it. "You wouldn't recommend staying, then?"

"Nah. Let's try the next one. But maybe keep this one on the reserve list."

Xisuma looked pointedly at the brown patch beneath them.

Tango raised his hands in a placating gesture, "Yeah, yeah, I know. But with the whole group, we could probably take it. They might even like the challenge."

Xisuma raised an eyebrow, but tapped something into his communicator regardless. "I'll put it on the backup list, but I'd like to find somewhere safer. Are you alright?"

"Right as rain." The light breeze felt sharper than usual when it brushed past his throat. "Never better." His stomach twisted uncomfortably. "As immortal as ever." The dried bile on his lips cracked as he flashed a grin.

Xisuma looked skeptical. "No side effects I should know about?"

Tango winced slightly at the implication, "That was _one time_ , X, one time!"

"And I don't want you to lose a leg _permanently_ because we've left it behind in a dead world and you didn't tell me that it might fall off. You're lucky I found it."

"Damn pillagers and their axes," He grumbled quietly. That had been an embarrassing afternoon. Crawling away from a pillager outpost, screaming into his communicator for _someone_ , _anyone, just get Xisuma_ , _get X_. The other hermits had sent worried messages to the chat, wanted to come and help him, of course, but Xisuma made sure that he got there first. Some random desert, thousands of blocks out. And after Xisuma had retrieved his calf and shin from the celebrating pillagers, he'd healed up just fine. No problem.

Well, it had fallen off in the shopping district after a less-than-perfect elytra landing, but since then, it had been fine.

And his little immortality secret had been kept from the other hermits once again.

Out loud, he said, "I'm fine, X. It was just an enderman. Nothing detached." He wiggled his fingers sarcastically at Xisuma for emphasis. "Let's just go."

"Only if you're sure you're okay to travel."

Tango rolled his eyes, "Yes, _Mom_ , I'm fine."

His knee ached at the memory of axes hacking through it.

A slight smile crossed Xisuma's face. With a flick of his wrist, his control panel opened. The black screen appeared between them and Xisuma must have entered a command, because the familiar pressure started squeezing Tango again.

And if Xisuma noticed his sharp breath when it pressed on his neck, well. His friend said nothing.

Time to see what the next world would be like.

~

The next world was absolutely _on fire._

Quite literally.

His eyes felt dry as soon as he opened them, heat prickling at his hands and legs. Everywhere, in fact.

It didn't _hurt_ him—it couldn't, not really—but it wasn't the most comfortable either. Sweat was already dripping down his back. Reds and oranges danced in front of him as flames licked at his clothes.

A hand grabbed at his shoulder and he turned to look at Xisuma. His helmet seemed to be doing an alright job of keeping the smoke out, but dark wisps were starting to sneak under the visor.

Xisuma made a gesture at him that he didn’t understand. Move over? Go?

Oh, they were leaving. Obviously. That made more sense.

White crept over the red and the heat faded.

~

Tango opened his eyes to sunlight and Xisuma coughing next to him. The hastiest of safety checks told him that they had arrived in a plains biome and weren’t in immediate mortal peril, so he reached out to pat Xisuma’s back.

Tango stayed focused on Xisuma, ready to take action if anything more happened. Or if something decided to attack them. They stayed sat in the grass for half a minute before the coughing started to die down.

“Better?” Tango asked, holding Xisuma steady through the last of his coughing fit.

Xisuma held a hand up in a _give me a moment_ type gesture and reached up to his helmet. He flicked the switch to open the visor with practised ease and Tango wasn’t surprised when no smoke floated out. It was part of the last world, so it would have stayed there when they left.

But he _was_ surprised when Xisuma began coughing again in earnest.

“Xisuma?”

Tango’s hands fell from Xisuma’s shoulders as he started shaking.

Panic started to bubble up in his chest, “Xisuma, what’s wrong? What can I do?”

Deep, hoarse coughs that sounded like they came from the bottom of Xisuma’s lungs filled the air.

 _Okay okay okay,_ Tango’s mind raced, _I can’t help if I’m freaking out. Deep breath._

He realised what was wrong as soon as the air he tried to take in slid sluggishly down his throat. It was too thick for Xisuma’s voidwalker lungs to handle.

He reached over and flipped the switch back.

Xisuma’s visor slid down, once again hiding his face beneath the barely translucent yellow screen.

Tango waited tensely.

The hacking slowed.

After five agonising seconds, Xisuma gave him thumbs up.

“Thanks,” He croaked.

Tango gently swatted the back of his head, “What were you thinking, just pulling your visor down without checking the atmosphere first, ya maniac?!”

Xisuma smiled weakly, “Felt like there was still smoke stuck in my throat.”

And oh, but Tango understood that. The mind and body take time to catch up to reality when which reality you’re in switches on the whims of an admin.

Even if that admin is you, apparently.

He smiled back sympathetically, “It’s gone now?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. And we should probably head to the next world, if you can’t even breathe in this one.”

Xisuma shook his head, “No no, you never know, this world could be perfect.”

Tango stared at him, “Xisuma. You. Can’t. Breathe.”

“I’ve got my helmet, I can keep it on.”

“Even when you’re asleep.” Tango deadpanned.

“Even when I’m asleep.”

“And when you’re eating.”

“I’ll just eat, I won’t breathe.”

“You won’t—Stars, X, you’re being ridiculous!” Tango crossed his arms, “Take us to the next world.”

“But this one could be a perfect fit for everyone—”

“It’s not perfect for everyone if it’s not perfect for you, Xisuma.” He interrupted what he could tell would be a spiel of Xisuma trying to sacrifice his own well-being for the happiness of the rest of the hermits. As if he didn’t do enough of that already. He thinks Tango doesn’t know about the months of sleepless nights he spends dredging through the code of world after world simply to find a shortlist of even possibly-maybe- _potential_ candidates. As if Tango wouldn’t notice how withdraw he’d become over the last six months. Oh, he knew Xisuma’s voice hid it well. They’d both had years of practise, after all. But his actions betrayed the exhaustion and stress his friend was going through.

And it didn’t look like their search would be over soon, either.

So far, this shortlist hadn’t been particularly promising.

Xisuma looked at him for a moment, clearly trying to weasel his way to a reasonable argument that would convince Tango to at least test the world out for a little while.

“Come on. Next world, Xisuma.”

Xisuma huffed in defeat. The admin panel opened once again, and the world brightened until it reached the familiar white haze.

The air weighing down Tango’s lungs lightened along with his vision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have any schedule for this, so when new chapters are uploaded is a surprise for everyone, including me!


	3. No Contact

Eight hours in, and everything was normal.

He could breathe, he wasn’t on fire, and nothing had tried to kill him just yet. Of course, the sun was beginning to set, so there was plenty of time for that.

But Tango felt more prepared this time. Not wanting a repeat of the first world they’d visited, his first task after Xisuma left for the future had been to gear himself up.

Now he sat in a small hole in a mountainside that he’d hollowed out himself with a wooden pickaxe and stuck a door on the entrance. A chest sat on top of a furnace with a crafting table shoved haphazardly next to them. His iron sword and stone tools were carefully organised in his inventory and the shoulder guards of his hastily-made chestplate scratched lightly at his arms when he moved. Two squares of farmland rounded out the small base, the seeds slowly growing into wheat under the light of a torch hung on the wall above a small water source in the corner.

The scarcity of animals had immediately made him concerned about the world’s suitability, but the fact that the worldspawn had been a desert surrounded by extreme hills made it plausible enough that there simply weren’t many animals that lived in this particular area. Either way, he needed a reliable food source, so wheat it was for the time being.

~

When night came, he peeked through the small windows in his oak door. The desert sand looked blue under the dim moonlight, but it was enough for him to see silhouettes moving between the cacti. But nothing seemed to be on his hillside, and it thankfully looked like a normal amount of mobs. Few enough that he would be able to take them all out himself, if he wanted them gone.

The chestplate rubbed against his neck, and he decided not to.

~

The night passed, surprisingly without incident. Xisuma arrived not long after daybreak. Tango saw him flicker into existence out in the desert through a trapdoor he had installed to act as a window, in lieu of having access to glass. Curiously, he wondered if the time travel commands always took Xisuma to worldspawn, or if that was just always where he happened to be when he used them.

A sweet scent interrupted his thoughts as it flooded his house. The air grew thick and sticky, and it tried to cling onto Tango as he jumped backwards. He knew what it meant.

Xisuma popped into view in the middle of the base, right in the spot Tango had been standing not a moment earlier.

“Xisuma, just adjust that teleport command. I don’t want to have to dive out the way every time you don’t see me right away.”

“Good morning to you too.”

Tango rolled his eyes, “Yes, _good morning Xisuma_ , now _please_ stop trying to splice us together. I don’t wanna be a demon bee.”

“How was your night?”

Tango sighed, deeply and exaggerated. He knew it was just a part of the fun sometimes. One small thing to keep Xisuma entertained, watching him throw himself out of the way. He knew nothing would _actually_ happen to them if he didn’t move. Worst case scenario, he’d just be knocked over. And half the time, his dodging did that to himself anyway.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have his own fun right back.

“Oh, it was _terrible_ , absolutely _awful_ , the worst thing I’ve _ever_ experienced, _stars_ , Xisuma, it was _so_ painful, _so_ dreadful, I can hardly bring myself to say it…”

Xisuma’s eyes were as wide as saucers behind his visor, “What happened? Are you okay? Do we need to go?” He fired out questions frantically.

Tango pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and dramatically draped himself over the crafting table.

“I had—Oh, Xisuma, I had—I had to—I had to make a _manual farm!_ ”

Xisuma let out a huge breath, “You jerk, I thought something actually bad had happened!”

“It has!” Tango leaned into his dramatics, “No redstone! No hoppers! No pistons! I thought the world was ending!”

Xisuma chuckled, “Alright, drama queen, how was your night?”

Tango hopped up onto the crafting table to take a seat properly. “It was fine, actually. Normal amount of mobs and my wheat’s been growing just fine. Seems like a regular distribution of ores as well.” He thought for a moment, “Haven’t seen many passive mobs, but that could just be these biomes.”

“The world’s good to stay longer?”

“Seems like it. Nothing’s gone wrong so far, at least.” He flashed Xisuma a grin, “Next step is explore some more, see if I can find some animals.”

“Well, alright,” Xisuma seemed satisfied, bringing up his admin screen, “I’ll leave you to it then. See you in a day.”

“Make it two. I think this world’s got that much life left in it.”

Xisuma shot him a look.

“I’ll have more time to gather more information for you, X. Don’t know what I can really get you in a day,” He said, “And it’s not like I don’t have the time to spend.”

He did. He knew he did, in just the same way that he knew Xisuma's lifespan was more limited than his own.

“Two days’ time then. Stay safe.”

“Oh, you know I won’t, X. Never do.”

Xisuma returned his smile at that, before entering the command that pulled him away into the future.

Tango dived for the door as soon as he saw Xisuma’s body fading out. He got outside just in time to escape the awful smell he knew would be fouling up his house. He groaned. It would be a few hours before he could go back in there without feeling sick.

He wondered if Xisuma did that on purpose to mess with him, or if he genuinely didn’t know the stench his time-travel caused.

~

Tango spent his two days walking east, hiding the night away in a dirt hole. Giving himself time to mine some more resources, he reasoned to himself. A full set of iron armour never hurt anyone. And if he only ventured above ground when the sun was high, well, there was nobody to notice.

~

When Xisuma next teleported to him, he bumped into a tree.

“ _Watch it_ , X!”

Xisuma waved off his indigence, “You’re fine, you’ve got armour. Nice set, by the way.”

“It was,” Tango said, brushing a piece of bark off his shoulder, “Before I hit a tree getting out of someone’s way.”

Xisuma just grinned.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Xisuma looked past Tango, “I see you’ve found some animals.”

Tango turned to look at the grassy patch behind him. It had taken the better part of the last hour to corral those few chickens and cows into a pen. Not counting the two and a half hours it had taken to make the forest clearing in the first place.

“Yep. There’s not _loads_ around, but it would be enough. We wouldn’t have a problem if we started farming right away.”

“And you haven’t run into trouble?”

“Not yet.” Just the usual exertion that came with building a new base up from scratch. Why fences took quite so much wood to make, he’d never know.

Xisuma checked his communicator, “Next visit should be in a week, then. Is that alright?”

“Sure is.” Tango pulled a piece of bread from his inventory, “Got all the food and luxuries I could want,” He waved the loaf around jokingly, “But really, do you need any food?”

Xisuma shook his head. “It’s only been an hour. I’m still full from the carrots I had before we left.”

Tango nodded. Of course. Only an hour. But it was still an hour of Xisuma’s life that Tango didn’t think he should have to spend searching through worlds.

This time, Tango stepped backwards as soon as Xisuma brought up his admin screen.

Xisuma noticed. “You okay?” He said, his yellow helmet peeking around the screen.

Tango nodded again. “Just don’t wanna get stinked-out.”

Xisuma’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Stinked-out?”

“Your time-travel leaves behind some nether-awful smell.”

“Oh.” Xisuma looked a bit put-out. “Sorry. I’m never left in the aftermath, I guess. I’ll go somewhere else.”

He made to walk off into the forest, and images of Xisuma dying flooded Tango’s mind. From a skeleton’s stray arrow to an unnoticed ravine, there were far too many perils his friend could fall victim to if his eyes weren’t on him. And the stakes were too high.

Who knew how the gamerules worked here.

And he didn’t want to get stuck here without the one person who could take him home.

“X, no, just stay here, it’s fine!”

The words came out a little more frantically than he meant, but Xisuma paused.

“If you’re sure…?” He raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s only a smell, right? It’s not even that bad.” Tango tried his best not to let his nerves show on his face.

“Well, okay then.” Xisuma gave him a look that said _you’re one weird cookie, but I love you_. “See you next week, Tango.”

~

The week went smoothly enough. Tango even managed to stumble across a herd of sheep. He didn't have any wheat on him at the time to temp them back to his base camp, but frankly, he only needed three pieces of wool anyway.

The herd left the area quickly after that, and slightly smaller.

His grassy patch in the forest grew larger as he chopped down more trees. He raised a small stone tower in the clearing, carefully sculpting a pointed oak roof. A little wizard-inspired home in the middle of the woods. He'd even spent the time to bring up the dirt around the bottom, creating a little mound around the stone to give the illusion of more stability.

 _Scar would be proud_ , he thought as he leaned against the fence of one of his animal pens, admiring his work, _if he ever had the chance to see it._

Even if this world ended up being the perfect pick, his work would still have to be erased. After all, there wasn't any point in the hermits moving in _after_ he'd spent the time observing a world. No, they had to move in at the point in time when he and Xisuma first entered the world. Otherwise, they would be in unfamiliar time and it would carry the same risks as if they had just picked a random world to join. They wouldn't know if the world had started to decay until it might be too late.

That was why he and Xisuma did this little run-around. They could never risk the other hermits' safety like that.

A gentle cluck pulled him out of his thoughts.

With a sigh, he pushed himself off the fence, "And I suppose you're after more seeds?"

The chicken behind the fence clucked again.

"Alright, I'll go find some."

He walked to his tower and swung the door open. The inside was exactly as he left it, of course. There were no hermits here to mess with his things. It was sort of nice, he supposed, to not have to keep an eye out for pranks. He spared a glance at the furnace, and was pleased to see that his steak was cooking nicely.

He opened one of the many chests scattered around the room, and was confused for a moment when the air that escaped smelled sweet. Surely the only things he had stored in here were seeds and wheat? Was this not the animals' feed chest?

But his body knew what was going on and it reacted before his brain caught up. He ducked to the side, the lid of the chest slamming shut as he dropped it.

And then Xisuma appeared in front of the chest, and it all made sense.

"It's next week?"

Tango nodded at his visitor.

"Good." Xisuma said, "For one moment there I was sure I'd entered the wrong command."

An icy lump of fear suddenly lodged itself in Tango's throat. "Yeah... Gotta be careful with that." He knew that their plan involved him staying alone in different worlds for years, but the idea of Xisuma not turning up when he was supposed to sent a wave of fear through him.

"Indeed." Xisuma seemed a little distracted, checking something on his communicator. "So, it's been alright?"

"Yep. Everything seems totally normal. I've even got some animals outside," Tango tried to squeeze past Xisuma to reach the feed chest, "And I was just about to feed them, so if you could—"

"We have to go."

Tango froze in confusion. "What?"

"We need to leave, right now." Xisuma sounded serious.

"But it's fine?" A chill ran through Tango. It was his job to find the broken parts of a world. Had he missed something obvious? "What's going on?"

Xisuma didn't take his eyes off his communicator. "There's another player."

_What?_

"What do you mean, another player? I haven't even seen any sign of anyone!"

Xisuma was scrolling through something now, and he didn't look happy about it. "The chat logs don't tell me where they are, and I'm not exactly going to teleport myself to them."

Tango let out a sigh of relief. "So they're probably thousands of blocks away, right?"

"Can't tell. But from these messages, it looks like they've got a communicator and they know we're here." Xisuma looked at him, "They've been trying to contact you. It's a good thing you don't have one of these,” He held up the device, “Or they could have teleported straight to you, and who knows who they are."

Tango nodded. Too many hermits were running from their old lives. Any player might be a threat, and it wasn't worth the risk.

Then something occurred to him. "X, _you've_ got a communicator."

Xisuma's eyes widened. "Time to go. Now."

The black admin panel appeared and the world started to fade, just as a sticky, sweet scent filled the air.

 _Hope they'll feed the chickens_ , Tango thought as his short-lived home disappeared.


	4. New-Found Friendship

Tango had been there for two weeks, four days, and ten hours before he relaxed in the new world for the first time.

There had been a few herds of wild horses living in the plains around the spawn chunks when they arrived, and one skewbald mare had taken a fancy to the handful of sugar he'd offered her. He hadn't really gone for horse-riding all that much before, but he had to admit, trotting through sunflower-filled meadows in the warm afternoon sun while sharing half a stack of apples with his companion was a nice way to explore.

"Good day for a ride, isn't it, Lazuli?"

It was good to have someone to talk to, even if she could only nicker in response.

Of course, he saw Xisuma often enough, but he knew that the time between visits would only grow. He'd had three so far. The next one should be in six days' time, if he'd counted right. One day, then two, then a week, two weeks, a month, three months, half a year. The gaps would get even longer after that, if the world was still stable.

He was looking forward to introducing Xisuma to Lazuli.

"I think you'd like Xisuma," He spoke out loud as they wandered through the plants, "He's always got carrots on him _somewhere_." He idly dragged his fingers across the saddle. They came away tinted blue, some of his coloured decoration having rubbed off. "Looks like we'll need to get some more lapis to pretty up your tack again, eh, Lazuli?"

Lazuli huffed quietly.

"I'll take that as a yes."

They rode on in silence for a while, listening to the gentle humming of the bees in the meadow. The world seemed so peaceful in those moments. A saddlebag stuffed full of snacks, his armour strapped to the outside. It was nice to feel the warm sunlight on his bare arms. It was even more relaxing to know that he wasn't in danger without his armour, because it was nowhere near nighttime—and because he trusted Lazuli to keep him safe. She'd already proven her capability in that. He shuddered briefly as he remembered how she had stood up to a creeper the night before, snorting and stamping at the ground until the green menace slunk back into the trees. _Her and False would get on splendidly_ , he decided.

"I'll find you again," Tango promised to the air, "If we can stay in this world, I promise I'll find you again."

He knew that she couldn't understand him, but as she flicked an ear, he allowed himself to believe that she had.

~

Three days later, they reached the coast.

It wasn't surprising that it had taken so long to find the ocean—in fact, it was good to know that this world followed the usual layout of large continents.

What was surprising, was the ocean itself.

Tango could see it stretched out to the horizon as he sat on the rocky beach, letting Lazuli munch apples straight out of his hands. The small stones mixed in with the gravel dug into his legs almost painfully, but he didn't feel like standing up.

Gentle waves lapped at the shore, washing up the gravelly beach before ever-so-slowly rolling back out.

He didn't go near them.

It was beautiful, in a strange, haunting, dangerous way, and he didn’t want to touch it.

The ocean was filled with lava.

They wouldn't be able to stay.

Which meant he only had three days left.

His eyes stung.

Lazuli seemed to pick up on his lack of energy. An unmoving Tango wasn't a Tango she was used to. She reached past his hand and shoved her snout in his face with a huff. Tango squeaked in surprise at the intrusion and toppled over backwards. He looked up to see Lazuli wearing an expression that he could only describe as a horse looking smug.

For a long moment they stayed still, eyes locked together.

Tango laughed.

He laughed for half a minute, deep guffaws as though he'd just witnessed the funniest thing in the world.

Given how little time he had left here, perhaps he had.

He laughed until his lungs hurt and Lazuli started nuzzling him. He stroked her nose as she leaned over where he lay on the uncomfortable ground, her whiskers tickling his ears as she snuffled at him. The bright blue sky was a beautiful backdrop for her brown and white face, and just for a moment, it overwrote the deadly red of the sea in his mind.

"Gah, stop it!" Tango said, still laughing, as he playfully shoved her away. She returned his shove by gently nibbling at his ear, careful not to catch it in her teeth. Tango squirmed away, laughing even harder.

"Nooo, Lazuli, let me get up!"

She didn't, not for another twenty minutes, until she could be sure that the only tears in her friend's eyes were from laughter.

~

They didn't stay close to the sea. Tango had seen enough of that. Instead, they spent their three days fooling around together.

Tango taught Lazuli how to play chase.

Lazuli taught Tango how to dodge a horse trying to play chase.

Tango built jumps out of fallen logs.

Lazuli made them fall again. They discovered that jumping wasn't her speciality.

They enjoyed each others' company.

Tango knew he didn't have enough time to get Lazuli back to where he'd found her, even if her herd hadn't despawned by now.

He comforted himself with the knowledge that she wouldn't. A dungeon crawl and a nametag made sure of that.

It was a good three days.

~

Xisuma arrived as they rode across a plains. As soon as Tango caught the familiar sweet scent, he urged Lazuli on. She picked up the pace without question, breaking into a trot for a few strides.

But she spun around when something landed heavily behind her. She quivered under Tango, ready to rise up and strike whatever enemy approached them with her hooves.

"Whoa, Lazuli," Tango swiftly slid off her back, keeping ahold of her reins, "This is Xisuma, he's okay. Remember Xisuma?" He kept his voice calm and level, "I told you about _all_ about him, remember?"

Lazuli gave him a _look_ , one that, if she could understand him, he would have sworn said _okay, but he's on thin ice._

Tango kept one hand on the reins and offered the other to Xisuma, who was still sitting on the ground.

"Need a hand?" Tango grinned.

Xisuma took it. "Thanks," He said as Tango pulled him to his feet. "Well, I bet that horse has been handy for getting around."

"Yeah," Tango glanced softly at Lazuli, "She's been pretty good."

"And how's the world?" Xisuma wasn't one to beat around the bush, but right now Tango wished that he was.

"It's... Yeah..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "The oceans are lava."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Not a good fit for us then."

Tango winced. He knew that Xisuma would say that, but it still hurt to hear. "Maybe it would make a good challenge world? Y'know, like season three?"

An amplified world had certainly presented some... _unique_ challenges for the group.

Xisuma paused thoughtfully and for a moment, Tango felt hopeful.

"No, I think lava is too dangerous. And it doesn't make for a comfortable respawn."

Tango knew about the aftermath of respawning, even if he'd never had to experience it. The days he'd spent caring for a burnt, bedridden Zedaph after an accident in the Nether hadn't been easy.

"We could live inland...?" He made one last attempt to convince Xisuma.

"Tango..." Xisuma glanced at Lazuli, who was still eyeing him up, "Is this about the horse?"

Tango didn't have an answer.

"I don't think this world is worth the risk, Tango." Xisuma's voice was softer now, "And what about you? What if you fell in there? You don't even cause death messages in the chat. How would I know to get you out?" His eyes were full of kindness, but Tango stared resolutely past them. "Burning indefinitely in a sea of lava doesn't sound fun."

And it wasn't. Tango knew that, of course he knew. He'd been to the Nether. He'd made the same rookie mistakes that everyone had. Not looking where you're walking. Not checking the wear and tear on your elytra. Not thinking about whether the gravel you're standing on has something beneath it or not.

All things easily done and all things that ended with a quick fall and swift, if very painful, death.

But not for him.

He couldn't let Xisuma know that, so he turned to Lazuli without a word, before Xisuma could see the tears pricking at his eyes. No point in adding to Xisuma's stress as an admin by making him worry about Tango going to the Nether.

"No, I guess not," He said quietly.

"The next world, then."

He heard Xisuma pressing buttons.

Lazuli nudged at his hand, her eyes full of questions. He patted her neck.

"Bye, Lazuli," He whispered, "Have fun without me."

None of his hermits were even here, and yet somehow, he still found himself losing friends.

His eyes stayed on Lazuli as her brown patches lightened to match the white overtaking the world.

~

The next world rained. Like, a _lot_.

It was good. It gave him an excuse to stay inside and not think for a little while. It was just him and the patter of raindrops on the wooden roof of the small hut he'd commandeered from a witch.

He was living in a swamp this time around, which probably didn't help with the rain. But it was pretty normal, or at least, he hadn't come across anything out of the ordinary on the few exploratory trips he'd made.

 _I need to go out more_ , he thought as he sat on his bed and watched the water create patterns on his window. _Should probably do my job at some point._

~

It had been raining for sixteen days.

He decided to stay inside once again.

~

Xisuma opened the door without knocking. "Morning."

"Still wet."

"Still wet." Xisuma echoed.

"There's some mushroom stew on the table if you want it."

"I've still got nearly a full stack of carrots, thanks."

Tango didn't reply. What should he say?

"...Have you moved from that bed since I last saw you?"

He shrugged. "How long ago was it?"

"It's day twenty-four now."

"Don't think so. Don't wanna get soaked."

Xisuma was silent for a moment. "I think we should go, then. I think you've just summed up what living here would be like."

Tango shrugged again. "Maybe it's just a freak storm. Go to the next meet-up and we'll see if it clears."

Xisuma looked a little worried, "Are you really sure you want to stay here for another month, Tango?"

"Sure." He said flippantly.

Xisuma didn't seem completely convinced, but stepped back out onto the porch regardless. He pulled the door closed and panic briefly gripped Tango's stomach as his friend dipped out of sight, but the sick smell that wafted in a few seconds later comforted him for once. Xisuma would be safe, and he could put his irrational fear aside.

He settled back down into the covers and prepared himself for another month of rain.

~

Day twenty-five: it rained.

Tango stayed inside. The mushroom stew sat on the table, cold and untouched.

~

Day twenty-eight: it rained.

Tango stayed inside. He crudely scraped a picture into the wooden wall. It was a horse.

~

Day thirty-one: it rained.

Tango stayed inside. He spent the day slowly gnawing through a carrot.

~

Day thirty-four: it rained.

Tango left the house. He explored enough to appease his guilt at not doing anything for Xisuma. He didn't go very far.

When he reached a plains biome, he turned around.

~

Day thirty-six: the rain finally wore through the roof.

It dripped down the back wall, soaking into the wooden planks. It didn't touch his bed, so Tango ignored it.

~

Day thirty-nine: it thundered.

Tango curled up under his blanket.

~

By day forty-four, the thunder was constant.

~

The lightning started on day forty-nine.

Tango was relieved when it didn't strike his house. Now he had an excuse to not brave the boggy ground.

~

On day fifty-three, he couldn't sleep through the night. The bright flashes kept waking him up and the leak had spread to the area of roof over his bed.

~

Xisuma arrived on day fifty-six. The thunder had become a constant background noise in Tango's head and he couldn't hear what Xisuma was saying. The admin didn't seem pleased at the state of things.

It was clear that they were leaving.


	5. Stuck in the Farm

_Xisuma was right_ , Tango thought to himself, bent over and elbow deep in his wheat farm, _all that rain was_ not _good for me_.

He stuffed the last handful of seeds into the hole he'd made and straightened up. His hands were caked with the dark, rich earth. The new world was _ridiculously_ fertile. He had only built this larger farm a few weeks ago and already it had produced nearly a dozen harvests. He had wheat coming out of his ears.

As he tried to scrape the worst of the dirt out from under his fingernails, he looked around his homestead. He'd decided to go farm-themed this time around. A sort of homely, cottage-on-the-prairie feel atop a mesa plateau. He liked it. His little house built from blue terracotta with its birch wood trims and lanterns hanging from the corners. He'd even put a chair and table on the veranda. It was all very picturesque. Bdubs would appreciate it.

There were several garden plots, each well-lit and outlined with logs—wheat, carrots, potatoes. He was even growing beetroots.

He'd had to carve a path down the cliffside for access to the river that ran through the valley between the hills. His plants needed water, and he was happy to make the trip, buckets in hand, to provide it for them. Birch fences ran along the edge of the stone path.

It had been a good home so far. He'd achieved enough to make him happy in the three months that he'd now been in this world.

(Not counting the first week he'd spent sitting silence on the ground at worldspawn. After five days, Xisuma had threatened to take him back home and bring someone else.)

No, for three whole months, he'd been productive. He'd built things. He'd farmed. He had tested the world by simply existing in it. His whole mind had been entirely focused on what he was creating here. Without a doubt, Xisuma would find his achievements tasteful. And who knows what he would have been able to add to it when he next visited. Three more months to go.

He could do that. It was quiet and peaceful out here, just him and his agriculture. No mobs. No animals.

And _absolutely_ no rain.

~

By the time those twelve weeks passed, you could have mistaken the mesa for a jungle. There was no trace of the dry dirt and sad trees that typically crowned the biome, only lush pastures crowded with crops and neat, orderly rows of different tree varieties.

Tango was pruning a young oak when someone clapped his shoulder.

"Tango! This place is beautiful!"

He dropped his shears in surprise as he jumped away from the touch. "X! Give a guy some warning, huh!"

He turned to his visitor, and it felt like it had been so long since he'd seen that bright yellow armour.

His friend smiled sheepishly behind the visor. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

Tango grunted at him as he retrieved his shears from the ground, " _Suuuure_ you didn't."

His grin grew a little wider.

"But," Tango continued, brushing dirt from the tool, "I'll overlook it, like the kind and gracious person I am."

"Of course," Said Xisuma, "Now, what have you been up to?"

~

They spent the morning in the orchards, wandering between the trees as Tango proudly pointed out his sapling layout, carefully calculated to reach maximum efficiency.

Xisuma had laughed at that. "Never change, Tango. Never change."

They sat on the stone wall surrounding the potato field at lunchtime, enjoying fresh bread and apple juice. Eating the same meal for the fifth time that week felt new again when Tango was sharing it with Xisuma.

Tango showed Xisuma around his house in the afternoon. Xisuma said the kitchen was his favourite—a small room with a black and white tiled floor, neat wooden panelling, and a large stone fireplace that wouldn't have been out of place in a fairytale. The plants had started to creep inside, with several potted cacti adorning the windowsill.

They cooked mushroom stew together, Xisuma laughing when Tango's sleeve caught the pot's handle as he turned away from the stovetop. The stew spilt onto the floor and they decided to have sandwiches for tea instead.

(Later, when he was alone again, Tango would realise they had accidentally salted the stew with sugar anyway.)

They sat on the veranda in the evening, once Tango had dragged a second chair out from his sitting room. It didn't match the wooden style of the outside furniture, but that didn't matter—there was no one else in the world to care. Just them, enjoying light conversation in the dying sunlight.

Too soon, all they had to see by was the soft orange light of the lantern on the table. It created a glare across Xisuma's visor, tinting the yellow glass to the redder side of the spectrum and hiding his friend's face from Tango's sight.

They talked and laughed together until the first beams of sunlight peeked over the horizon.

It was so nice to have company again.

"I'll see you in the new year, then." Xisuma rose from his seat. 

It had been _so_ nice to have company again.

"Six months will just flash by, don't you worry." Xisuma stretched his arms, already reaching for his communicator.

"Certainly will." Tango _almost_ kept the bitterness out of his voice. How hypocritical of his friend.

The dawn light was just bright enough for him to see the slightly shocked expression behind Xisuma's visor.

He quickly flashed a smile, instantly regretting his momentary slip in tone. He knew Xisuma was smart enough to make subtle jabs on purpose, and kind enough to not. And sometimes dumb enough to do it accidentally.

"...Right." Xisuma smiled uncertainly, "See you."

The nasty stench washed over the porch and Tango jumped from his chair and quickly headed out to his gardens. There was always lots to be done, and what better time to start than daybreak?

~

In the evening, Tango returned to his house and calmly gathered their plates from the day before. He left them by his kitchen sink, unwashed.

He attempted to return his chair to the sitting room, but he didn't get it further than the kitchen. For some reason, the idea of moving it across carpet instead of tiled floor seemed exponentially harder.

He gave up on the idea. His kitchen could do with a new chair anyway. He curled up on it and chatted quietly at his potted plants, watching as the clock on the wall ticked away. He'd painted a face on it a few weeks ago.

So nice to have company again.

~

The days passed quietly, stretching out into weeks and then months. Time ticked on and the day that would have been his birthday came and went, unnoticed.

Tango didn't mind—he'd fallen into a comfortable routine. Rise with the sun and have fresh bread for breakfast before strolling to the vegetable gardens and harvesting any grown crops. That bit had been taking longer and longer recently. Tango wouldn't say he was the best farmer in the world (or maybe here, he was), but he was fairly certain that if you kept growing crops in the same soil without giving the ground a break it was supposed to become _less_ fertile, not _more_.

 _Don't have to worry about food though,_ he thought as he plucked a stone from the field and tossed it away, _That's good._

He usually returned to his house for lunch, almost always a salad made from the fresh ingredients he had just collected.

Today it was mostly packed out with carrots, washed and finely sliced. He had grown to appreciate the natural crunch and subtle flavour of regular carrots, without the golden coating that was so common to see in a hermit's hand.

He cleaned the dish and left it to dry on the countertop before strolling out to his tree plantations. They were growing faster than he would expect too—he had more logs than he knew what to do with, but he kept the farm going. Swinging an axe at a tree was something to _do_ , after all. He didn't know when it had become an integral part of his life in this world.

 _Maybe I just like pretending to be a farmer without redstone doing my head in for once,_ he mused.

Whatever the reason, it didn't change his schedule. Today, he was replanting some of the dark oaks.

He paused at the gate, rummaging in the barrel he'd placed by the entrance to hold his stock of saplings before heading into the farm.

He was especially proud of this area. The thick canopy cover gave the pasture an eerie atmosphere and he'd tried to embrace it while still keeping the area safe; the stone walls had been carefully and methodically broken down, leaving just enough height to prevent anything from climbing over yet still adding a feeling of abandonment to the build. Light sources were hidden in the ground every so often to prevent mobs from spawning, but it wasn't quite enough to completely erase the shadow under the trees. He'd even hidden a few little gravestones around and hung cobwebs between branches.

The whole place reminded him faintly of the forest section he'd built for Decked Out, but he couldn't quite be sure how many aspects he had borrowed from it. It felt like he'd built the game years ago.

 _Had_ it been years?

Hmm.

 _Probably_ not.

And even if it was, it didn't matter that much. He'd lost millennia of progress over the seasons, worlds that he'd spent lifetimes in, only for him to abandon them. He didn't care about a few decades anymore. He could probably spend a month floating in the void and not notice.

He chuckled out loud at that. Okay, he used to time passing and not much happening, but thirty days in pitch-black darkness with only the freezing chill of the end to feel was not his idea of fun. A shiver ran through him just thinking about it.

He put the idea aside, instead quickly walking through the neat rows of dark tree trunks to the back of the farm.

It was much brighter here, due to the lack of trees. He'd cut them down yesterday but he'd had to spend more of the day than he'd wanted in the crop fields. There had been so many potatoes to dig up that he'd eaten lunch late, and then the sun had set before he could replace the trees he'd taken down in the afternoon.

He set the bushel of saplings on the ground and readied himself. There were a lot of empty spots to fill.

~

By the end of the day, twenty-four new trees were on the way, organised into three tidy lines matching up with the rest of the plantation. Tango stepped back to admire his work, mindful of the setting sun. He would have to get back soon, and he jumped slightly when his stomach rumbled, voicing its agreement. 

A smile crossed his lips as he picked up the few saplings that he hadn't planted. Still some work left for tomorrow.

As he turned to the direction of his house, he heard the tell-tale wooden _thunk_ of a tree popping into existence behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and was pleased to see a healthy-looking dark oak where a group of sapling had sat a moment ago.

It distracted him just for a moment, but turning his head was enough for him to waver in his walk and step off-course into one of the patches of saplings.

"Gah!" he squeaked as he stumbled over the plants. The leftover saplings slipped from his grip as he flailed, trying to regain his balance. After one tense, teetering second, he righted himself in the centre of the saplings.

He held still for a moment, checking that everything was now fine, “Who put these dumb trees here?” he chuckled to himself, “At least there’s no one to see stuff like that!”

He brushed a stray leaf from his shirt and muttered, “Come on, Tango. Let’s just go home.”

As he leaned down to pick up the plants that had fallen, he heard another wooden _thunk_ and suddenly the world dropped into darkness.

Allhe could feel was a tight, squeezing pressure around his entire body, trying to compress him from every angle. His head felt like a nut under someone’s boot, being crushed and crushed and crushed until it would snap open in two separate halves. He couldn’t even open his mouth to scream, his jaw being shoved shut and it felt like his teeth were being fused together. He shrieked as best he could anyway.

He tried to move his arms, to reach up and claw at whatever was holding his head but they didn’t respond. Pins and needles were starting to prick his arms everywhere, as though he was wearing a top with sleeves that were too tight, but he knew he’d put on his loose work t-shirt this morning. He desperately tried to kick out at the omnipresent pressure, but his legs were frozen too.

 _What the hell, what the hell, what the_ hell _is this!_

His mind raced in the darkness, trying to figure out what on _earth_ was happening.

 _Unless, oh, oh no, oh_ stars _no no no_ —

Trees growing quickly.

And he’d been standing in the middle of saplings.

_Shit…_

The pain and pressure was too much, far too much. He was sure that if he could see the world, it would be spinning. Or if he could see _anything_ that wasn’t a blackness so absolute it might as well be the void. He shut his eyes and clenched his jaw even tighter, but it didn’t help. Instead, he felt the wood push into the minuscule space he’d created, forcing his mouth to stay where he’d only wanted it for a brief second of respite. Something pressed into his ears as well, slowly poking and prodding as it wormed its way in, Tango unable to move away or do anything to impede its progress.

Soon the woody tendrils were nestled deep in his ears, blocking out his already muffled screaming completely.

~

He had no concept of time passing, or whether he even stayed conscious.

~

It was all just the same painful, pressing sensation.

~

If thirty days in the void didn’t come with this crushing pressure, with his every bone feeling like it was on the verge of crumbling inwards, he would take it in a heartbeat.

~

No sound. No sight. But touch was constant and overwhelming.

~

Even with his every nerve being pinned under anvils, he could still feel the vibrations of his own deafened screams through his ribs.

~

When something finally changed, it was _worse_.

Suddenly, out of the nothingness that was his existence now, every limb and every atom felt like it was on _fire_. It was like his entire body was being carved up from the inside, pieces disconnecting and being shoved and smashed into the strong oak walls of his prison. Like something else was trying to occupy his own personally-shaped cell.

It didn’t last for long.

~

The next thing he registered was light.

“ _Tango!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your lovely comments & for enjoying my thinking too much about minecraft!


	6. False Alarm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's my birthday so you lot get a slightly-longer-than-normal chapter :)  
> Hope you're all having a happy halloween!

Tango shut his eyes.

It was _so_ bright.

The light was still peeking through his eyelids, trying to scratch at his corneas and he instinctively buried his face in his hands.

The sweet relief of darkness returned and the burning in his eyes began to fade, leaving him with no more pain. Anywhere.

And he'd moved his hands.

He could have sobbed at the realisation. He wasn't trapped anymore. The universe had finally seen fit to allow him to be released from that hell. He'd finally paid whatever penance his idiocy owed by spending those minutes, hours, however long it had been, stuck inside a tree. What a stupid mistake.

He was free again.

Something grabbed his arm.

Tango flinched away, yanking his arm out of the grip. He kicked at whatever had touched him, his feet lashing out and connecting with something. He heard a yelp, but the movement knocked him off-balance and with one hand still clamped over his face he was completely unprepared. He yelled in shock as he felt the world tip upwards, and then blunt pain blossomed in the back of his head and shoulders as he hit a hard and unforgiving ground. He groaned.

He heard shuffling, and then something touched him again. It was gentler this time, but Tango's senses whirred into overdrive. The touch dragged lightly over his chest, but it felt crushing.

Tango gasped and tried to wriggle away as visions of wooden vines wrapping around him flooded his mind.

It grabbed his shirt, trying to stop him getting away, trying to _trap him again_ —

His hand fell from his eyes in his struggle. The light no longer hurt, but it was still too bright for him to make out more than a yellow shape looming over him. He lashed out at it, fists swinging as he desperately tried to squirm out of its grasp. A hollow clang assaulted his ears as one of his punches connected.

He lay on his back and braced his feet against the ground in an effort to push himself along. It seemed to work—the thing holding him wasn't prepared for his sudden burst of movement and his shirt was ripped from its hand.

He scurried backwards like a crab. Sharp stones stung his hands as he scrabbled at the ground, not caring that they tore at his palms. Fear smothered the pain as the stones wormed in deeper with each movement. The terror ran circles in his mind, his only thought that this terrible yellow tree would _catch_ him, would wrap around him and root him into the ground. Darkness and pain for eternity, with no light, no movement, no room to even _hope_ —

Nothing. Nothing _forever_ and he would never _ever_ be able to escape.

He would become a forest, every pixel of his body turning to wood and he would never be able to shout or scream or yell for help and nobody would _ever_ know he was there and he would be stuck in this world forever, again, and Xisuma would never find him.

If he didn't _keep moving_ , the tree would _get_ him.

He tried to scoot backwards faster and the light was still too bright but that awful yellow tree was still chasing him and _oh stars, it was gaining on him._

His breaths came as fast and shallow gasps and his stomach lurched. Sweat pricked at his skin and a sudden coppery taste flooded his mouth.

He doubled his efforts to escape, dragging himself along the ground. He tried to aim another kick at the tree but his leg refused to straighten, quivering just barely raised off the ground.

The tree stretched its branches out towards him and made some kind of noise that didn't register over the thump of Tango's heartbeat in his ears.

He pushed back again, his muscles burning. How long had it been since he last used them?

The tree grabbed his foot.

"Get off! Get off! Get off _off_ _OFF!_ Go _AWAY!_ Go, just go go go! _Let me GO!"_ Tango screamed, tearing the last of the air from his lungs, "LET _GO_ OF ME!"

The tree released its hold.

He kicked the branch immediately, making the tree quickly withdraw it with a yelp. He had a chance, one second of opportunity to make a break for it.

Tango scrambled to his feet, almost tripping over himself as he struggled to control his shaking legs. He took off, only vaguely taking note of his surroundings as he finally turned his eyes away from the harshness of the direct sunlight. He was in a mesa. Not in his home. Not in his tree farm.

 _Am I at spawn?_ , thoughts of how to navigate back to his home briefly fought through his panic, _Home can't be far_. 

His legs wobbled, threatening to bring him down with each step, but he had to escape.

The tree shouted at him, but he kept sprinting. He risked one backwards glance. It was chasing him, _oh no, he wasn't going to be fast enough, it was going to_ get _him_ —

His foot caught on a dead bush, sending him sprawling to the ground.

His forearms took the brunt of the hit, the jagged stones of the mesa slicing his skin as he skidded across the ground.

Cold washed through him, as though his veins had been dunked in ice water. He gasped.

The tremors that plagued his muscles took the tumble as an invitation to intensify. He tried to get up, but with his twitching arms and shivering legs, there was no hope.

He shut his eyes.

He was going to be taken back _there._

He already couldn't do anything.

Hasty footsteps grew closer.

He'd failed.

The footsteps stopped a little distance away.

This was it. He braced himself for the tough grip of branches.

But a soft voice drifted over instead.

"Tango?"

It knew his _name_. He didn't ever have a chance of escape.

"Tango, please, _please_. It's okay."

Of course it wasn't. Tango curled up, still quivering.

"I'm not going to do anything. I'm just going to stay over here, okay?" The voice was gentle, as though the tree wanted him to believe it.

Tango wrapped his arms around his head, burrowing his face into his chest as best he could. The tree could do what it liked, but he certainly wasn't about to give it an open invitation.

"It's Xisuma, Tango. I promise it's okay." The voice paused, "I promise, whatever happened, you're safe."

And now the tree was lying. _Great_. Stealing his friend's voice, he didn’t even know trees could do that. What, did it want him to _trust_ it? Well, it wasn't going to work. He curled up tighter, still quivering.

"Okay then," Something shuffled near him, as though someone was making themselves comfortable on the rough ground, "I'll look out for you until you're ready."

Between the centuries spent searching through worlds and the millennia he'd lived before that, Tango's internal sense of time was well and truly shot. Without seeing the sun and moon, he was useless.

Maybe he spent a long time curled up on the ground, with stones slowly cutting holes in his clothes as he shivered against them. Or maybe it was only minutes before his mind finally came up with a thought that wasn't racked with fear.

 _You should look_ , his mind whispered.

 _Why would I do that?_ Tango mouthed into his shirt. What did his brain think it was playing at?

 _Maybe it's not a tree_ , the little voice suggested.

Tango frowned. Of course it was a tree. It had to be a tree. It was a tree trying to catch him and trap him and lock him up forever and he would never escape again—

 _Then why hasn't it done anything?_ his mind interrupted his spiralling train of thought.

He considered it for a moment. No, it had done something, it had chased him. It had tried to get him.

_It's not doing anything now. Go on. Take a pe_ _e_ _k._

He strained his ears, listening out for any tiny sound that would tell him the tree was still there.

He heard nothing. But he hadn't heard it leave, either.

Maybe just a quick look.

Arms still over his head, he opened his eyes and flinched as his hair dropped into them. He froze.

Damn. Had that been enough to give him away?

The world stayed silent.

He decided to risk it. Moving as slowly and smoothly as his exhausted body would allow, he peeked between his arms.

Sitting on the ground a dozen blocks away was a familiar set of yellow armour.

Oh.

Tango felt like an idiot.

Of course it wasn't a tree. Trees weren't yellow. They didn't speak. Trees didn't let go of you just because you asked and the most stupidly obvious, they didn't chase you in the first place.

Xisuma had found him after all.

"X," he said, the roughness in his voice surprising him.

Xisuma sat to attention immediately, looking straight at him, "I'm here, I'm here Tango. It's okay."

Tango tried to move his arms off his head, but he failed. Despite the shaking, his muscles felt stiff and unresponsive.

"Help, please." he croaked, "Can't move."

Xisuma leapt to his feet dashed towards him for a few steps before stumbling to a slower pace, as if he'd remembered he should be treating Tango as something fragile.

"I'm going to touch you, is that okay?" Xisuma's hands hovered a little ways from his arms.

Tango was confused for a moment about why he would ask for permission, before remembering how he'd reacted to Xisuma's touch last time.

"Yeah."

It took some time, but gloved hands gently pried his arms apart. Xisuma lifted him into a sitting position and took a seat next to him, keeping him upright. Tango leaned into him, pressing himself into the armour that had soaked up the sun's heat like a sponge. The surface was slightly rough, but it was more comfortable than the terracotta ground of the mesa and there was just enough friction to stop his head sliding down. He didn't think he'd be able to pick it back up by himself.

A steady thumping caught his attention, and it took him a moment to realise that it was Xisuma's heartbeat, along with the soft whirring of the electronics in his suit. The two rhythms intertwined pleasingly, the beats washing through him in gentle waves. His breathing finally calmed, naturally falling in line with the rise and fall of Xisuma's chest.

He really was safe. He was with Xisuma. Xisuma would keep him safe.

Xisuma always kept the hermits safe.

He tried to snuggle further into the armour, suddenly aware of just how _tired_ he was.

"Ugh," He mumbled, "I'm—" He yawned, "I'm gonna..."

Xisuma said something in response, or maybe he didn't. Tango was out before he finished his sentence.

~

Tango woke to a terrifying, crushing pressure. It was _all_ over him. He tried to take a breath, but his throat closed up and beads of sweat pricked his skin.

He screamed and thrashed, the thing forming itself to his movements. It felt like it was wrapping around him tighter, working its way into gaps and tangling itself around him. He kicked and punched, shrieks ripping through his hoarse throat—

And suddenly, it was gone and Xisuma stood over him, panic on his face and a blanket in his hands.

"Blanket! It's a blanket!" He dropped it, "It's gone!"

And then Tango realised he was lying on a bed. A glance around revealed a red carpet stretched out on the floor and familiar farm-themed pictures hanging from the wood-panelled walls.

He was in his bedroom, back at his house.

His racing heart started to calm with the realisation and he placed a hand on his chest to try to control his rapid breathing. He glared at the offending object, "...Right. Yeah."

"You look awful, Tango." Xisuma was now holding a steaming bowl. "You need to eat."

Tango moved to sit up, but he hissed in pain when his hands touched the sheets. He flopped back down on the bed, looking to his hands in confusion, only to find his entire arms swaddled in bandages

"Careful!" Xisuma jolted forward a step before quickly halting again, eyes fixed on the precariously sloshing contents of the bowl.

He dragged a chair to Tango's bedside and held the bowl out for him. A delicious waft of mushroom stew caught Tango's attention and his stomach rumbled. How long had it been since he'd eaten? He hadn't noticed, but that stew smelled _so_ good.

He tried to grab it, still lying down and practically drooling, but Xisuma lifted it out of his reach. 

“I don’t think so. Those stones tore up your hands.” Instead, Xisuma picked the spoon from the bowl himself and Tango thought, _No, he’s not, is he really_ —

“Nyoom nyoom, open up!”

Tango burst into laughter. Xisuma waved the spoon around in dramatic loops, somehow managing not to spill the contents.

“Come on, this plane can’t stay in a holding pattern forever!”

Xisuma beamed at him, and Tango grinned right back, everything temporarily forgotten. His friend was ridiculous.

He was so glad Xisuma was here.

~

They repeated a similar sort of routine for the next few days—Xisuma cared for Tango, helping him out of bed and chastising him when he tried to do too much. They spent most of the time chatting about trivial topics, like whether Xisuma was putting enough yeast in the dough to make a decent loaf, or whether it was weird for Tango’s clock to be smiling. It was nice to share his home with someone after living there alone for so long.

Xisuma even tended his gardens, at Tango’s insistence. Just because he wasn’t allowed to pick up a shovel didn’t mean his little patch of tulips should suffer. Tango hovered over his friend’s shoulder like a bee, carefully instructing him in the exact precise method he had for watering the plants that would maximise their growth. Xisuma indulged him and Tango’s particularism must have been somewhat successful—some of the flowers were pushing a block and a half in height.

Xisuma slept in the guest bedroom Tango had built especially for him, months ago. It was thoroughly bee-themed, and he was quite proud of it.

Tango slept without the blanket.

~

They were sitting on the veranda in the evening, cups of tea in hand, when Xisuma finally asked the question that had been hanging over them.

“What happened, Tango?”

He knew this had been coming. Really, he’d been lucky it had taken this long. He stared resolutely into his mug on the table, noting how nice the deep brown of the liquid looked against the red ceramic.

The straw was a bit silly, though.

“I got stuck in a tree.”

He could practically _hear_ Xisuma’s raised eyebrow.

“No, really, I think the tick speed is higher than normal,” He blurted out the first explanation that came to mind. Anything would have done, just _something_ that wouldn’t make Xisuma think he was a _complete_ idiot. But then he thought about it for a moment, and suddenly it seemed like a perfectly logical explanation. “Can you check?”

Xisuma pulled out his communicator. “Oh—Blimey, Tango, the tick speed is at three hundred!”

Tango sat up straight. “Wait, that’s really it?”

“It’s certainly weird. And dangerous, I suppose,” Xisuma gave him a look that was half sympathy, half I-know-you’re-deflecting-but-I’ll-go-with-it, “If you were such a slow-poke that a tree grew around you.”

It was said in good humour, with a light and teasing tone, and if it had been a different situation, Tango might have cracked that joke himself.

But here and now, it made his breath catch in his lungs.

“Uh, y-yeah,” He stuttered. He tried to smile, tried to sell that he was alright.

From the way Xisuma’s face dropped, he didn’t buy it.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have joked.”

“No no,” He found his foot tapping the decking, “It’s fine.”

“Of course,” Xisuma said, his tone betraying just how dishonest he thought Tango was being in that moment, “But I’ll always be here if you’re not.”

Tango just nodded. He knew that already, but it was good to hear it again.

They sat in a silence that was only slightly uncomfortable, the kind of atmosphere that happens when both parties know something is clearly wrong, but neither can quite speak up.

Eventually, Xisuma stood, the deck creaking under him as he moved. “I won’t leave you to pick up our plates on your own this time,” he joked.

Tango glanced at him, feeling slightly confused. “You’ve been picking up everything, since you got here,” He held up a still-bandaged hand, “I can’t?”

“Oh—” Xisuma looked a little embarrassed, “I suppose it’s been a while for you since the last time we had dinner out here.” He paused, “How long were you stuck in a tree?”

The tension was breached.

“It—it happened on day two hundred and fourteen.” He felt proud that his voice only shook a little.

“Tango…”

Tango stared at his cup. Xisuma’s big eyes, full of sympathy and concern, were too much.

“My arrival date was a year. So you were stuck for…”

If it wasn’t for his friend’s helmet, he was sure he would have been able to hear his brain whirring as he tried to trot out the calculations.

“Two and a half months?”

Tango shrugged, “Guess so.” _Two and a half months, he’d been in that hell for two and a half_ months—

A gentle hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality. Xisuma stood over him, frowning. Tango distantly realised he’d been shaking.

And then Xisuma said the exact sentence he’d been dreading, “I’m going to take you home.”

That got his attention.

“What? X, no, X, wait, no one else is immor—”

He cut himself off as the air prickled, admin magic crackling and _pressing_ against him, _holding_ him and he couldn’t _move_ —

Xisuma’s sad eyes disappeared in front of him, breaking down into fuzzy pixels and the dark evening sky faded.

_Pop!_


End file.
